Glimpses of Gold
by ilysia
Summary: Tales of the Kings and Queens of Narnia during the Golden Age from the time they entered through the Wardrobe until they left by the same way, told in 100 chronological drabbles.
1. Blue

_**#1- Blue**_

* * *

Four children trudged though the deep snow. While three walked in wonder, Edmund kept his head down, ignoring the glad sounds his brother and sisters were making. His mind was full of Turkish Delight and queens and thick furs.

Peter slipped down a snow-covered slope, laughing as he went. Edmund caught the amazed look on his brother's face and smirked. They were all dupes, the three of them. He knew the real Narnia, the one who wore white and exuded power.

On a nearby branch, a bluebird dared to trill sweetly. The little bird was the first flash of color Edmund had seen in Narnia and he hated it.


	2. Red

_**#2- Red**_

* * *

"Now here's a beauty. He'll make a lovely supper." Mr. Beaver flashed Peter a smile as he hauled the silver trout from the frigid water. "That ought to 'bout do it," he declared, making himself more comfortable on the ice. "Here, lad, hand me that knife, would you?"

While he cleaned the fish, Mr. Beaver kept up the one-sided conversation. "And there- no, to the east- lives Kanth and his brood. Good friends of ours."

Peter nodded obediently.

"You'll not find a more respectable Goat in-" The knife clattered to the ice, making a surprising racket. Mr. Beaver hissed and clenched his paw. "Clumsy of me."

Peter watched the drop of red stain the snow with vague unease.


	3. Green

_**#3- Green**_

* * *

It was undeniable now- spring had come to Narnia. All around them the world was donning green and gold. There was barely any snow to be seen anywhere, and what was left was a slushy mess.

Jadis stood next to her sledge, nostrils flared and eyes narrowed dangerously, taking in the sight of her magic falling to pieces. Edmund made sure to stand as far from her as he could, not wanting to become the object of her fury.

A bird sounded overhead, adding to Edmund's growing sense of sober satisfaction. He risked a look at Jadis' pale face and was glad to see that it, too, was tinged with a faint shade of green.


	4. Yellow

_**#4- Yellow**_

* * *

"Look, snowdrops! And the little yellow ones!"

Mrs. Beaver smiled. "Yes, dear, those are celandines."

"They're very pretty." Lucy plucked one of the small flowers and twirled its stem between her fingers.

"Legend tells that Aslan brought them into the world on the day that the first child of King Frank and Queen Helen was born. They're for joy, and hope, and they've not been seen in Narnia in a hundred years."

"I think they're lovely."

"Here, dear, let me put some in your hair. We're nearly to Aslan's camp now and you should look like a queen."


	5. Black and White

_**#5- Black and White**_

* * *

He slipped the tunic over his head, marveling at the perfect fit. Slowly, after checking that he really was alone in the great tent, Peter sank down onto a stool to think.

These people needed his help, however strange that might sound. They believed in him and in the girls, and wanted them to stay.

It wasn't as though he could leave, not even after he'd got Edmund back. He couldn't abandon Narnia.

Susan might not like his decision, but to Peter the difference between the wrong and right choice was as clear as the difference between black and white.


	6. Good

_**#6- Good**_

* * *

His blood rushed through his veins with a ferocity he could feel. He had trouble catching his breath, though his mind was clear as crystal. Maugrim lay dead where he had fallen, and Rhindon was bright with blood.

Susan and Lucy released him reluctantly, as though fearing he might break if they stepped away. Peter gave them a shaky smile of reassurance, wanting only, in that moment, to see the Lion.

Aslan regarded Peter steadily, his deep eyes bright.

There was a moment of silent understanding between the two. _It is good, my son._

Aslan spoke. "Kneel, Son of Adam."


	7. Excitement

_**#7- Excitement**_

* * *

"Sit down, Peter, you're not helping things. And you're making me dizzy."

Susan watched as her newly knighted older brother sat down on a stool with bad grace. He tried, she could see that, but it was too much, and soon he was on his feet again, pacing in the confines of the tent.

"Susan, what if something happens? What if he's hurt, or they can't find him? I should have gone with them."

"What, and gotten yourself killed in the excitement? They'll bring Edmund back, Peter."

His voice was pained. "How do you know?"

"Aslan obviously believes they can."


	8. Happiness

_**#8- Happiness**_

* * *

The plate armor chafed Edmund's bruises as the Centaur ran, jolting him out of his exhausted reverie. He lifted his head from the crook of his carrier's arm and looked about wildly, searching for Jadis or some other tormentor.

What he saw instead was strange countryside passing by at a remarkable rate and a troop of merry-looking soldiers surrounding the Centaur carrying him.

He watched the scenery fly by until exhaustion overwhelmed him. As his eyes began to close, he realized that, though he was probably being carried to his execution, he was happier than he had been in ages.


	9. Hope

_**#9- Hope**_

* * *

"Shhh."

"Is he asleep?" Susan whispered, letting the tent flap fall into place behind her.

Peter, from where he was lounging in his own hammock, nodded. "He was restless earlier, but he's calmed down. He's exhausted."

"I know." She leaned down to push a strand of hair back from Edmund's face, accidentally brushing one of the livid bruises on his temple as she did so. Edmund started violently, as though struck, but didn't wake.

"He's back." Peter's voice sounded slightly desperate. "I have to hope he'll stay with us."

"Have you spoken with him?"

Peter shook his head slowly. "Tomorrow."


	10. Beautiful

_**#10- Beautiful**_

* * *

Lucy wandered through the camp, making her way to the boys' tent. Above her, the early morning sky retained its fragile grey color.

She knew her brothers were awake, but the muffled murmur of voices made her pause. This was Peter and Edmund's time; the two had wounds far older than the ones gotten in Narnia to mend.

She retired to a grassy hillock to wait until her brothers emerged. When they did, she watched as Peter wrapped an arm around Edmund's shoulders and received a gentle grin in return.

Lucy smiled. It was going to be a beautiful day.


	11. Evil

_**#11- Evil**_

* * *

"It's the Witch."

"Why is _she _here?"

"Aslan will stop her."

The whispers floated through the summer air as the crowd of soldiers parted. Peter watched with a mixture of interest and fury as he got his first sight of the White Witch.

Her icy eyes flashed his way and he was shocked by the strength of this gaze, but it was not him she was looking at.

"Edmund," he whispered, sensing a tremor course though his brother. "I won't let her take you."

"Why not?"

"_Why not?_" Peter repeated, incredulous. "Because she's evil and you're-"

"I'm what?"

"You're not."


	12. Worry

_**#12- Worry**_

* * *

"He said he might not be there."

"I know, Peter, I know what he said. I heard him." Susan turned her cup, watching as the firelight danced on the beaten gold.

"You don't think this has anything to do with…" Peter trailed off, his eyes sliding to the west and the sunset.

"I don't know. But I am worried. It's not… Don't say anything to Edmund."

"You think he hasn't noticed? The entire camp's been off since _She_ came."

Susan's eyes flashed. "Peter."

"I won't say a thing."

"Good. Maybe Aslan meant something different."

They both smiled; neither believed it.


	13. Sadness

_**#13- Sadness**_

* * *

Lucy tossed and turned, trying to escape her nightmare. With a start, she sat up, breathing shakily. She couldn't pinpoint a terror from the dream, just shapeless shadows and nameless fears.

And it wasn't just the nightmare- the entire camp had been swathed in an oppressive melancholy since the White Witch had come and gone. Lucy had seen Peter and Susan's whispered conversation around the fire, and she'd noted the way Aslan had kept to himself after Jadis had gone.

Edmund was here, he was safe, they were together, and yet…

A shadow, wreathed in sorrow, passed by the tent.


	14. Anger

_**#14- Anger**_

* * *

Peter peered at the map in the dim light, his fingers running over unfamiliar names. "This plain to the north…"

"Beruna, Sire," Oreius supplied. "Yes; as good a place as any, and better than most, for battle."

"If we hold the high ground, we'll have the advantage."

"Of position, at least," Edmund muttered, staring not at the map but to the north, to the battlefield.

Peter nodded. "Oreius?"

"It is a good plan, King Peter. And it will be a fine day."

Oreius loosed a grim smile that barely masked his anger and eager anticipation for what was to come.


	15. Ugly

_**#15- Ugly**_

* * *

"Sire," the Meerkat squeaked from where she stood beside him, "when the time comes for us to enter the fray, I beg that you be careful. It will get ugly in the melee."

Edmund nodded curtly to her. "You know, Sil, in my world there is a saying about war."

The young soldier looked excited. "From Spare Oom, Sire?"

He nearly laughed, wondering where in the world the ridiculous name had come from. "Yes."

"May I hear it, Sire?"

"Of course. It's always said that 'war is hell'."

Now, he supposed, he would get to test that saying for himself.


	16. Song

_**#16- Song**_

* * *

The battle raged around him but it didn't touch him. Peter wielded his sword with luck and faith and more than a little desperation, somehow managing to keep his enemies at bay.

He fought the battle as well, fought its siren call that stirred his blood and made his head rush. As he fought, something deep within him rustled and stirred, keen to succumb to the temptation of battle and blood lust.

The blinding blue light of a breaking wand and Edmund's silent scream undid him, and at that moment Peter learned how dangerously beautiful a song war could sing.


	17. Humor

_**#17- Humor**_

* * *

"When are you going to learn to do as you're told?"

There was a moment of silence and then they were all laughing and crying and holding each other tightly.

Susan buried her face on Peter's shoulder, ignoring the armor that dug into her cheek, and cried until she laughed. The sense of death and gravity that had hung over them dissipated, leaving four exhausted children who were no longer quite children.

It surprised her, but Susan realized that Peter's one joking comment had done more to heal the rift between the four of them than any well-intentioned sermon.


	18. Rainbow

_**#18- Rainbow**_

* * *

"How far is it to Cair Paravel?" Lucy questioned, testing the strange name.

"Not far, Lucy. _Queen _Lucy." Mr. Tumnus quickly corrected himself. "We'll travel east to the sea, and then south along the coast."

"Is it beautiful?"

Tumnus shook his head. "I've never seen it, though I've heard it's quite lovely."

"Oh, Queen Lucy, it is!"

Lucy turned her attention to the animated Filly who pranced at her side. "You've seen the palace?"

"Oh, yes! My family hails from that country. When the sun shines on the eastern windows, it's so lovely you'd think a rainbow was caught there."


	19. Magic

_**#19- Magic**_

* * *

"Your Majesty."

Susan nearly lost her precarious seat as she turned to find Misca, who smiled gently at her confusion. She was still unused to hearing those words addressed at her. Her one consolation was that she wasn't a queen, not yet.

Or, she didn't think so. She was fairly certain that there had to be some sort of ceremony first.

"Your Majesty," the Dryad continued, pointing south. "There- if you follow the coast- you can just make out Cair Paravel."

Susan looked, and saw, and the fairytale magic of the palace made her forget all worries over her title.


	20. Cute

_**#20- Cute**_

* * *

Peter leaned back, sand shifting beneath him as he settled into a comfortable position. He knew Susan and Edmund were somewhere nearby, but at the moment he couldn't be bothered to look for them.

At his side, Lucy dozed peacefully. She was tired- they all were - and tomorrow was the coronation, which Peter still had difficulty believing. But today was theirs.

A pair of Otters passed them by, whispering.

"The way King Peter watches over her; it's precious, my dear, just precious."

Peter, thinking how Lucy had always hated being called cute, flopped back into the sand and laughed.


	21. Sunshine

_**#21- Sunshine**_

* * *

Edmund stood on a balcony, watching night give way to the morning of the coronation.

_Coronation_. The word stuck in his throat. _She_, of course, had promised to make him a prince. But her promises were empty and false, whereas Aslan was nothing but truth and light.

And yet Aslan, who was wise and good, would choose a former traitor to be a king. Edmund could make no sense of it.

From behind, he heard a low, gentle purr.

"Aslan."

"Edmund."

By the time the sun rose from the Eastern Sea, Edmund and the Lion were already deep in conversation.


	22. Believe

_**#22- Believe**_

* * *

"Why?"

Seeming to ignore the question, Aslan asked, "Would you die for your brother?"

Edmund didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Your sisters?"

"Of course."

"And Phillip, your friend? The palace servant, the soldier you've never met? Would you die for them?"

Pausing, Edmund realized that he would die to protect them, to protect Narnia. He looked into Aslan's eyes and saw the smile there. Quietly, he said, "Yes."

"You have known evil, Edmund, and it has made your love fierce. Believe, beloved, that what you have known will make you more able to protect that which I have given you to guard."


	23. Brightness

_**#23- Brightness**_

* * *

Susan straightened her skirt, brushing non-existent dirt from the velvet.

Noticing her fretfulness, Lucy said, "You look like a queen."

"I look like a little girl playing dress-up."

Peter laughed. "No one will care what we look like. This isn't England. We could wear nightshirts and everyone would be just as happy."

"Maybe we should," Edmund muttered, scowling as he adjusted his uncooperative cape yet again.

His frustration eased the tension and they were laughing when Aslan appeared.

"Children, it is time."

As the doors opened and the brightness of the hall spilled over them, the four forgot their apprehension.


	24. Power

_**#24- Power**_

* * *

As Peter mounted the dais, he was struck by the sensation that he was about to be crowned king. It was a heady knowledge, brimful of power and command, yet it was not what he expected.

He looked out at the faces of the people- _his_ people- and in that moment he understood that this marble throne and the crown that would soon grace his head carried with them more than power.

They carried responsibility and duty far beyond what he had imagined.

Looking to his siblings, Peter thanked Aslan that he would never have to hold that power alone.


	25. Everlasting

_**#25- Everlasting**_

* * *

In Cair Paravel's Great Hall, an entire kingdom held its breath in joyous anticipation as four children took up their crowns.

"Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen. May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens."

As the hall erupted into cheers, the Pevensies exchanged glances across the dais. The Lion's words touched something deep within each of them that made them think that the words were no mere formality, though they could not say why.

And though they did not yet understand, the words were both promise and prophecy.


	26. Strange

_**#26- Strange**_

* * *

Peter dropped into the chair with an audible sigh. Edmund raised his brows.

"Bad morning?" he asked.

"Not bad. Just, oh, just odd, I suppose."

"The servants?"

Peter nodded and Edmund grimaced. "It is strange."

"I must have been asked a dozen times since I woke whether I needed anything. Not to mention the valet."

Edmund gave his brother a sympathetic smile. It _was_ strange, waking up to discover that he was a king with a palace full of servants who were almost terrifyingly eager to serve. "We are royalty now. I suppose it comes with the territory."

Peter groaned.


	27. Cold

_**#27- Cold**_

* * *

The balcony doors were thrown wide open as an invitation for cool sea breezes. High summer, Narnia's first in one hundred years, held Cair Paravel in its glorious, blazingly hot grasp.

Within the room, Edmund tossed fretfully in his sleep.

_The cold reached inside him, filled him to the brim. She laughed, her face triumphant._

_"You didn't believe me gone, did you, my little prince? Remember, every traitor belongs to me."_

_Jadis caught his wrist in her iron, icy grip and pulled him close. "You can't fight me in your nightmares, Edmund."_

In the heat of the summer, Edmund shivered.


	28. Alone

_**#28- Alone**_

* * *

It wasn't, Susan reasoned to herself as she hurried through the hall, that she didn't want company. It was just that she hadn't any time to herself since the coronation and she needed some privacy.

Voices echoed in the corridor, warning her.

Susan's searching eyes lighted on a pair of beautifully carved wooden doors, through which she slipped with as little noise as was Humanly possible.

With a sigh of relief, she turned to look at her hiding place. As she stared in wonder at the endless shelves of books, Susan realized that she had finally found the perfect sanctuary.


	29. Darkness

_**#29- Darkness**_

* * *

"Lu, you see those pieces? The dark ones? They're yours."

"I know that, Edmund."

"You have the superior forces! Stop hiding in the corner and destroy him!"

Lucy frowned. "Who are you talking to?"

"_You!_"

"Oh."

Across the board, Peter laughed and neatly captured a black rook with one of his knights.

"This is hopeless," Edmund said, shaking his head in despair.

Lucy stood, laughing. "Merin's had her Puppies and I promised to visit. You play him, Edmund."

Muttering indistinctly, Edmund slipped into her vacated chair and marshaled his forces of darkness for an all-out war.

"Ready to lose, Peter?"


	30. Pain

_**#30- Pain**_

* * *

"Muffin?" Susan asked, nudging the platter closer to Peter.

"Only if they're magic muffins."

"It can't have been that bad."

"Easy for you to say- Oreius didn't make _you_ run sprints in full armor. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to run in armor?"

"It's for your own good," Lucy observed between bites of toast.

"Try telling that to Edmund."

"What's wrong with Edmund?"

"You'll notice he hasn't shown his face yet."

Susan sighed. "That's not unusual."

Edmund chose that moment to appear. "Easy for you to say. You have no idea how much pain I'm in."


	31. Looking Back

_**#31- Looking Back**_

* * *

Lucy turned to her siblings with a sad smile, wiping away a stray tear.

"He knew what he was doing."

"We know, Lu." Peter's voice was gentle.

She nodded and the three of them came forward, their arms full of flowers and green boughs. Together, they arranged them reverently, silently.

As they stepped away, Lucy took Edmund's hand. "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

"We should get back," Susan whispered. "The Anniversary is tomorrow and there's still so much to do."

Narnia's sovereigns returned to their guard. In the clearing, a gentle breeze stirred the flowers that decked the Table.

* * *

_I wish you all a very blessed Easter._


	32. Journey

_**#32- Journey**_

* * *

Edmund, sighing heavily, frowned at the map. "It's quite a long way, isn't it?"

From where he lay sprawled on his bed, Peter sighed as well. "Daunting, yes. I know, Edmund, I know."

"Are you sure that you want to go alone? It's a long sea voyage; you're bound to meet only stuffy ambassadors once you're there. Brenn doesn't sound very hospitable, in my opinion."

"I'll be fine."

Edmund rubbed his temples, and it seemed to Peter that his little brother looked old. "I know, Peter. I just don't like the thought of you making such a long journey alone."


	33. Young

_**#33- Young**_

* * *

Edmund fought the urge to bang his head against the table, crown and all. Negotiating with Calormen's ambassador, he was learning, was much akin to pulling teeth. If only Peter were here to deal with this! The High King, however, was still in Brenn; curse him.

"Ambassador," Edmund cut across, silencing the man and salvaging his sanity, "while I understand your concerns, our ban on the slave trade stands."

The ambassador smiled indulgently. "You are young, King Edmund."

"And you, sir, are impertinent, but I do not call attention to the fact and I advise you to follow my example."


	34. Old

_**#34- Old**_

* * *

"Really, Queen Lucy, I don't know how you do it. I can't even tell the _color_ under all this muck."

"It's a riding gown, Merek."

"_Was_ a riding gown. Now it's… well." The Alpaca sniffed righteously, her sensibilities greatly offended by the muddied garment. "I'm simply at a loss to understand how you managed to cover every inch of this gown in mud. Were you attacked, perhaps, by crazed Marsh-Wiggles, your Majesty?"

"Oh, Merek," Lucy laughed, "you know how Otters are. I couldn't pass by without stopping to say hello!"

"Otters! Queen Lucy, you'll make me old before my time."


	35. Hero

_**#35- Hero**_

* * *

Edmund chopped his sword down viciously, killing the Hag whose knife was imbedded in his side. "Peter!"

He couldn't see Peter anywhere. He couldn't see _anything_ through the pounding rain and the mud and the blood. And he knew Peter couldn't hear him- he could barely hear himself over the din of the battle.

"Peter!"

His voice cracked. He was exhausted and angry and wounded and all he could think about was his brother. If Peter got hurt because he was being the hero, Edmund would kill him.

"Peter!"

Edmund swayed, his vision blurry. "Peter," he whispered, and he collapsed.


	36. Dirty

_**#36- Dirty

* * *

**_

"Edmund, take the left-" Peter paused, sensing rather than seeing his brother's absence. Tensing, he looked back along the path of death and destruction he had hewn to reach the advantageous high ground.

Oreius, his flanks streaked with blood and grime, looked to him. "King Peter, we must press on towards their center li-"

"Edmund!"

Ignoring his general, Peter plunged back into the center of the melee. Edmund would not have left his side willingly and that knowledge terrified Peter.

From a distance, he could only watch as a slight figure, covered in mud and blood, collapsed on the battlefield.


	37. Clean

_**#37- Clean

* * *

**_

"Galan?"

"He's sleeping, your Majesty, and he mustn't be disturbed."

"But he will be…"

The Badger physician nodded curtly. "Aye, King Peter, he'll live. I've cleaned his wound and administered an infusion of gentian, to clear the poison-"

"Poison!"

Galan frowned at Peter's outburst. "Hags poison their blades, your Majesty, as you well know. But he'll live, as I said. For now, he must rest. I'll send someone to watch through the night."

"No, I'll do that."

"Your Majesty, as your physician, I object. But," he added, cutting off Peter's protest, "as a brother myself, I understand. Goodnight, your Majesty."


	38. Big

_**#38- Big

* * *

**_

"Well, what do you think?"

Lucy moved about, peering at the ship from every angle. "It's awfully… big."

Edmund nodded, smiling proudly at the newest acquisition to Narnia's fledgling navy. "Of course she is, Lu. She's a carrack, much roomier than what you're used to. I swear, though, you'll appreciate the size once we're halfway to the Seven Isles."

"It's really that bad?"

"Peter claimed he was nearly stark raving mad when they finally got to Brenn."

"Oh." She gave the ship another considering look. "What's it- she- called?"

"Peter and I thought that you and Su should name her."


	39. Small

_**#39- Small

* * *

**_

The night air was warm and comforting on her wet face and the sea swells rolled gently beneath her. From the shore, Peter called to her.

"Susan, don't go too far. I'm not coming in after you!"

She laughed. "It's not as though I'm alone out here! Do you really think the Mer-people would let me drown?"

With a sigh of contentment, she rolled to float on her back and stare at the sky. Stars blazed overhead, reminding Susan that queen though she was, she was only one small part in the dance that was as old as its Creator.


	40. Animal

_**#40- Animal

* * *

**_

Peter checked to make sure that Tarkheena Faarina was nowhere to be seen before he ventured down the hall. She was rather persistent, and he did not wish to encounter her this early. A vapid laugh warned him and Peter ducked into a convenient niche, wincing as he noticed Guillame, one of the elder Foxes, heading towards Faarina.

When she saw Guillame, Faarina frowned. "Filthy animal! Shoo!"

Guillame, Fox that he was, managed to look down on her despite his size as he replied, "You, Lady, are entirely lacking in certain social graces which it would behoove you to obtain."


	41. Sidekick

_**#41- Sidekick

* * *

**_

Lucy sighed loudly, wishing for a moment that Susan had come to Brenn rather than her. "Why don't you do this, Edmund?"

"What? Lucy, it's your treaty- you know everything about it. You practically _wrote_ it."

Frowning, she picked at the embroidery on her gown. "I don't think the merchants are very pleased about negotiating with me. I want this to go well. Narnia needs this."

He snorted. "Bully for the merchants. They'll get you or no one. And don't worry. You'll do beautifully."

"You think so?"

"I know so. And besides, I'll be there with you the entire time."


	42. Friends

_**#42- Friends

* * *

**_

Rubbing his temples, Edmund looked down at the tattered report once more. "Do we -" he started, pausing to collect his scattered thoughts. "Do we even know whose land it is?"

The scout, a young Osprey, shifted wearily on the ledge. "Sire, it's a border region. The mountains in the area make it… difficult to survey, though the attacks have all been in Archenland, at this point."

"Still, it's our border as well, and Lune has been an ally for the better part of six years. We won't reject his call for help. Take him this answer: Narnia will come."


	43. Party

_**#43- Party

* * *

**_

"They're gone again," Lucy said, her voice quiet so as not to be overheard by the guests in the banquet hall.

"We've had a peaceful summer. We should be thankful for that, at least."

"It's the Harvest Festival, though; the third that Peter's missed, if you'll remember. I know they had to go, but really, a Dragon? In the south?" Lucy shook her head in indignation. "Whatever is one doing down there?"

"I really couldn't say, but I can tell you this: if we continue to ignore our guests, we'll have a war with Calormen as well as with this Dragon."


	44. Family

_**#44- Family

* * *

**_

"He's in the copse, Ed."

"You think I don't know that, Peter?" Edmund snapped, exhaustion and tension putting him on edge. "Besides, he's a Dragon. He'll just burn it down when it's no longer convenient."

"Your Majesties! Your Majesties!" Sir Tranan thundered up, Archenland's device prominent upon his tabard. "King Lune requests that you both withdraw, as he can no longer provide support on your flank."

"Is he wounded?"

"Not seriously, your Majesty. But you will withdraw?"

Edmund shook his head. "No. Now's our best chance; the worm's cornered and he's desperate."

"Your Majesties…"

"We'll cover each other's back, Tranan."


	45. Togetherness

_**#45- Togetherness

* * *

**_

They celebrated in Anvard, kings and knights and servants alike, glad for the chance to rejoice now that the Dragon was dead. Peter and Edmund moved from place to place, speaking to the knights and lords they knew, laughing with the ones they didn't, and generally playing the diplomatic roles they both slipped into so easily.

Anyone who saw the bruises on Edmund's face or the bandaged burns on Peter's side knew better than to comment on the fact that the two never left each other's side. They were kings, after all, and together they had just slain the Dragon.


	46. Battle

_**#46- Battle

* * *

**_

"We had a bard from Archenland singing your praises before you even left Anvard," Lucy laughed, taking one of each of her brother's hands to lead them to the balcony. "It was a lovely ballad, full of danger and bravery and-"

"Damsels," Susan added. "Much was said about the damsels."

Edmund frowned. "I can't recall any damsels. Peter?"

"Nary a one, unless you're counting Lune's aunt." Peter grinned. "What else did he say?"

"Oh, you know. Strength. Faith. The usual." Susan shrugged. "Not much about the battle itself."

"No," Edmund said solemnly, "I don't suppose they would sing about that."


	47. Time

_**#47- Time

* * *

**_

"Perhaps King Peter will calm, given time."

Susan sighed and shook her head at Archenland's ambassador to Narnia. "Oh, Darrin, you know him better than that." She liked Lord Darrin; he was one of the closest people to the Narnian sovereigns outside of their intimate circle of family and friends. She felt that he, at least, deserved her honesty. "That- that _man_ insulted Narnia. And worse, he insulted Aslan. Time won't fix this."

"Queen Susan, I have seen King Edmund handle insults such as these."

"Well, there's Edmund's temper. And then there's Peter's. In Peter's case, time will not suffice."


	48. Shiny

_**#48- Shiny

* * *

**_

"You're both ridiculous."

"Susan-"

"Fighting like a pair of children! You, Peter, you're nearly twenty! What on earth were you thinking?"

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, positively dripping sweat, Peter frowned up at Susan. "_Me_? Why is this my fault? Edmund started it!"

"I finished it, too."

Susan breathed deep, resisting the urge to massage her temples. "What were you two fighting over in the first place?"

"Cleaning armor," Edmund replied promptly. "Loser does both sets. And weapons."

Susan sighed.

"Oh, yes," Edmund went on gleefully. "Peter'll be polishing until I can see my face in those greaves."


	49. Carefree

_**#49- Carefree

* * *

**_

"Mr. Tumnus." Lucy stood smiling at the door of the Faun's residence while he was at Cair Paravel, swinging a picnic basket. "Can I steal you for a few hours?"

"Queen Lucy! But of course!"

"Good!" Looking furtively up and down the hall, she leaned closer to her old friend to add, "I've convinced Susan that I'm unwell. If we hurry, we can slip away to the Southern Meadow and meet Feala's family for a picnic. Her new colt's just been weaned, so it would be an experience for him."

"Shirking your royal duties, Queen Lucy?"

"Actually, shirking ball planning."


	50. Tired

_**#50- Tired

* * *

**_

Susan frowned, watching from across the table as her both her brothers listlessly rearranged their breakfast. It was terribly unusual for either one of them not to be absolutely ravenous, but both…

"Are you two alright?"

Peter offered a small, insincere smile. "Just a bit tired, Su, that's all."

Edmund, though, still hadn't said a word. She caught one look of his grim eyes and understood; Peter and Edmund were warriors as well as kings, and warriors had some things worth forgetting. Still, Susan hated that there was nothing she could do to comfort her brothers when their terrible nightmares came.


	51. Crazy

_**#51- Crazy

* * *

**_

"This is crazy."

"It's perfectly safe. And Albon agreed; he said he'd be honored."

Susan shrugged, though the wariness in her eyes had begun to fade. "You really think I should?"

"I think it's a crime that you've lived to see twenty without once flying with a Gryphon. What is that, eight years in Narnia?" Edmund shook his head in playful censure. "Peter and I do it during the wars. And sometimes during the peace. Lucy thinks it's marvelous."

"It does sound lovely."

"Susan, it is. If you think Narnia is beautiful, wait until you see her from the sky."


	52. Passion

_**#52- Passion

* * *

**_

_What do you love, High King?_

Peter tightened his sword belt with more aggression than was necessary, earning himself an inquiring look from Edmund.

_What are you passionate about, Sire?_

He all but sprinted to the practice yard, eager to start the day's exercises. As he moved through the warm-ups, he couldn't keep his thoughts from straying.

_What do you love? _

He loved Narnia, his family, his people. Aslan.

_What are you passionate about?_

Keeping them safe, making them happy. Protecting them. Serving them.

The Star's questions echoed in his mind.

_What do you love?_

_What are you passionate about?_


	53. Perfect

_**#53- Perfect

* * *

**_

"I don't think I've felt so odd in my life," Peter admitted. "Of all the different peoples we've met, the Stars are by far the most singular."

Edmund agreed. Everything about Teirin, from his speech to his eyes to the way he thought had been completely and totally alien, yet oddly compelling.

"He made me feel… more and less. I was greater in his presence, yet I felt smaller. After meeting him, I can't help but wonder what the Stars must think of our flawed world."

"We're not perfect, Peter; we're not supposed to be. We are what we are."


	54. Abyss

_**#54- Abyss

* * *

**_

Edmund woke suddenly, gasping for breath. He lay shaking, staring at the shadowed ceiling.

Still, after all this time, he couldn't forget. The nightmares returned, slinking into his sleep as unexpectedly as summer storms and leaving him shaking and shaken.

He went to the open window and looked out at the starlit sea, trying to match its pacific calm. A cool night breeze brushed his face and he shivered, momentarily imagining it to be a frigid hand.

Unwilling to fall back asleep, he stayed by the window, waiting for dawn to banish the abyss that came with every icy nightmare.


	55. Cherish

_**#55- Cherish

* * *

**_

"Lucy? Do you think we ever take it for granted?"

Trailing her fingers through the cool water of the fountain, Lucy looked up. "What are you talking about, Su?"

"This. What we've been given. Do we ever forget how fragile it all is, how close it came to being destroyed?"

And Lucy understood, though she'd never worried about this the way Susan did. "We don't; we came too close to not having this to forget how wonderful it is. People will, eventually, but there's nothing we can do about that. All we can do is cherish what we now have."


	56. Wonderland

_**#56- Wonderland

* * *

**_

Peter, filled with a golden glow from the evening's festivities and the abundant wine, left the brightly lit banqueting hall to stand in the cool night air. As he paused by a pillar, he realized that he was not alone in seeking a quiet respite for, near the edge of the verandah, two of the visiting Calormene lords were gazing at the sea and endless sky.

One lord, unaware of Peter's presence, said. "What a wonder. I never imagined such a kingdom could exist in this world."

"Yes," the second replied, "quite marvelous."

Peter smiled to himself in the dark.


	57. Precious

_**#57- Precious

* * *

**_

"This is utterly ridiculous," Lucy muttered weakly, leaning back against the pillows. " I'm sorry, Susan. Why don't you go back down? I'm sure they miss you."

"Nonsense," Susan answered, reaching over to brush back a lock of Lucy's hair from her feverishly damp forehead. "It's not your fault you're ill. I've already sent Lune our apologies; he'll understand."

Lucy blanched and leaned forward, emptying the little left in her stomach into the silver basin by the bedside.

"Oh, Su," she moaned, "I am so sorry."

"Nonsense. I'd rather be here with you than at a thousand balls, I promise."


	58. Darling

_**#58- Darling

* * *

**_

"Your Majesty, I must beg you to reconsider."

"There is nothing to reconsider, Jonoah. I won't have the man in my kingdom."

The portly trader folded his hands together, sweat beading on his forehead at the thought of what Susan was proposing. "Please, Queen Susan, he is the darling of the Tisroc's court, not to mention the son of Calormen's most powerful trading magnate. Barring him from entering Narnia may seriously injure trade between the two nations."

Susan replied calmly but with finality. "I will not have the man blatantly disregarding Narnia's laws without there being consequences for his actions."


	59. Flower

_**#59- Flower

* * *

**_

A fierce sea breeze leapt up and tore over the cliff, wrapping itself around the lone figure there. Lucy, her hair whipping wildly, smoothed down her billowing skirts of mourning white and continued to make her way along the windy path. Though her siblings had offered to join her, she preferred to observe her ritual alone. It was her special rite, a remembrance of those lost at sea years ago.

Another great wind rose and she cast her burden of summer flowers into the air.

The petals landed in the pounding sea, a beautifully sorrowful reminder of a long-ago battle.


	60. Fresh

_**#60- Fresh

* * *

**_

_Poke_.

Peter felt something- or _someone_- poke him though the thick layer of blankets. Ignoring the sensation, he burrowed into his bed and yawned.

_Poke_.

"Peter, wake up."

He burrowed deeper, wondering why they couldn't just leave him alone.

"Peter, Meika said you'd be better today, and that you'd benefit from some fresh air." He was fairly sure it was Edmund's voice, but his head cold was making it difficult to be certain. "I'm going to open the window, but you have to tell me if you get cold."

He replied with a moan and flipped over. Edmund sighed.

_Poke_.


	61. Devious

_**#61- Devious

* * *

**_

"Are you certain of this?"

The Gull jerked his head. "Yes, your Majesty. They're flying Calormene colors, but I'll swear these ships are from the Lone Islands."

"So," Susan said quietly, raising one brow delicately, "the Lone Islands are playing their own games." She turned to Edmund. "It isn't as though this hasn't been coming for quite some time."

"No." He shrugged, giving her one of his infamous half smirks. "I think I'll leave this one in your capable hands."

"Thank you, brother." To the Cat waiting patiently at the door she added, "Summon the embassy from the Lone Islands."


	62. Papers

_**#62- Papers

* * *

**_

As the embassy indelicately chose a spokesman, Susan straightened her papers, smoothing the reports in the process.

"Your Majesty," one man finally said, "What would you ask of the Lone Islands?"

Her smile was predatory. "It has come to my attention that ships from the Lone Islands, disguised as Calormene vessels, are harassing Narnian trade."

"Queen-"

Raising a hand, she silenced him. "I want to know exactly what it is your lord is playing at, sir. Narnia has ever been a protector of those lands to which it lays claim, but such an abuse will not be allowed to continue."


	63. Notes

_**#63- Notes

* * *

**_

The ambassador flushed, caught off guard by Susan's certain knowledge. As the men whispered distraughtly amongst themselves for the second time, Susan quickly penned a brief note and passed it to a waiting courier.

When the ambassadors had composed themselves, Susan said, "I have just sent my compliments to my harbormaster, and ordered him to detain the next ten Lone Island merchantmen. You may tell their masters to apply to your lord for compensation."

"Queen Susan, I must protest!"

"You may also tell your lord that I will continue detaining his ships until his underhanded politics cease. Good day, gentlemen."


	64. Hand

_**#64- Hand

* * *

**_

"Peter. Peter." Receiving no reply, Edmund made to hit Peter over the head with the missives he held. Grinning, Peter ducked and easily snatched them from his brother's unresisting hands. As he scanned them, his grin faded. "The Ogres want a parley."

"So it would appear."

"Do we trust them? You remember what happened with the Rocs."

"They nearly killed me once," Edmund said lightly, taking back his weathered field reports. "But if they offer their hand and we reject it, we're at fault. We're honor-bound to try."

"They're _Ogres_."

"I didn't say we had to be stupid about it."


	65. Unstable

_**#65- Unstable

* * *

**_

"I told you this was a bad idea," Peter said mildly as they crouched in a dry gully.

"Be quiet. It was going well until Thragmur's brother-in-law beheaded him. All it takes," Edmund whispered savagely, "is one unstable relative, and all our progress disappears."

He would have snapped his fingers to illustrate his point, but they were firmly wrapped around his sword hilt. Even so, Peter understood.

"We made good headway, didn't we?"

"We nearly had a peace with the Ogres!"

After a moment of silence Peter said, "Well, at least it wasn't _you_ they tried to kill this time."


	66. Light

_**#66- Light

* * *

**_

Edmund dozed lightly, his sword lying half-sheathed across his folded legs and his back against one gully wall. Opposite him, Peter kept watch, yawning every now and again. It had been a _long_ afternoon, and night promised to be longer.

His eyes slid back to his brother only to find that Edmund was awake.

"What time's it?" Edmund asked blearily, running a hand over his face.

"Not yet midnight, or so I guess."

"Mmm. Any Ogres lurking about?"

Peter shook his head. "I think we'll move out at first light."

"Right." He yawned. "Get some sleep, Peter. I'll take watch."


	67. Fall

_**#67- Fall

* * *

**_

In the light of the false dawn, Edmund picked his way over the scree, his thoughts full of assassinated Ogres and the swiftly changing alliances of Narnia's enemies. It was still surprising how quickly leaders fell from power here in the wild. He tried to imagine such a thing occurring in Narnia.

Ahead of him, Peter turned and whispered, "You're quiet. Something wrong?"

"Just thinking what it would be like if you had me assassinated."

There was a pause. "You know," Peter said, taken aback, "I can't even imagine that."

Edmund chuckled softly. "Neither can I, brother. Neither can I."


	68. Trouble

_**#68- Trouble

* * *

**_

Two figures crept across the moonlit courtyard of Cair Paravel. Silent as shadows, they tailed the Captain of the Guard, graceful as night falling. As they moved, their black cloaks shifted to reveal the silver of honed steel.

The Centaur turned to make one last round of the area. All had been quiet this night; a good night. The guard would be changing all over the palace now that dawn was approaching. He smiled, anticipating a long, informal breakfast.

The figures slipped out from their dark hiding place. One, bolder than his companion, crept forward to brush the Centaur's flank.


	69. Memory

_**#69- Memory

* * *

**_

At the feather-light touch, Captain Nirisal drew his sword, whirling to face his attacker.

Both figures leapt back; their dark hoods fell, revealing the grinning faces of Narnia's kings.

Nirisal sighed deeply, sheathed his sword, and returned to his rounds. As he did so, King Peter said, "Pay up, Ed."

"Oh, no," the younger king replied smugly. "You bet we'd have to announce ourselves before he stopped. My memory's better- I knew Nirisal had more restraint. Hand it over."

There was a groan and a flash of silver as King Peter placed his favorite dagger into his brother's waiting hand.


	70. Spy

_**#70- Spy

* * *

**_

Susan rolled the quill between her fingers absentmindedly. It was cold in her study, the fire having died hours ago, and though darkness had fallen she lit no candles. The cold, the dark, numbed her, something she desperately desired, if only for a time.

A sharp rap on the door drew Susan from her reverie. With a sigh she straightened and bade the servant enter. As the Faun rekindled the fire, Susan turned her attention to the task at hand, loathe though she was to do so.

Reminding herself that she was a queen first, Susan signed the execution warrant.


	71. Inside

_**#71- Inside

* * *

**_

Drumming her fingers surreptitiously, Lucy tried to hide her increasing impatience. Opposite her, the southern merchants hemmed and hawed, passing a trade agreement back and forth between themselves.

Lucy sighed.

Heithin, her minister of trade, shot her a cautionary glare. She knew that it had taken months to get the Southern Trade Alliance to even consider sending a delegation. Once the delegation was in Narnia, it had taken all of her not inconsiderable diplomatic skills to get them into the council room.

But now that they were in, she suspected, the real difficulty would be getting them back out again.


	72. First

_**#72- First

* * *

**_

The twig hit Peter's temple and he sighed, refusing to open his eyes and give his guilty sibling the satisfaction. He settled down deeper into the lovely soft grass, drifting in a glorious state of half wakefulness.

And then another twig struck him.

He lurched forward, looking between Edmund and Lucy, searching for guilt. The younger king and queen shared a panicked look, leapt up, and fled, the High King hot on their heels.

Beneath the willow, Susan laughed to herself and discarded her remaining projectiles, safe in the knowledge that Peter would never know who had thrown the first twig.


	73. Last

_**#73- Last

* * *

**_

Lucy woke gently; she didn't gasp or sob, though she might have felt better for doing so. Instead she lay quietly, willing her racing heart to slow and her churning thoughts to cease. She stared into nothing until the darkness resolved itself into muted shapes and she could breathe properly again.

The images of her nightmare rushed suddenly upon her: the world's end and the failing of the sun and-

Better not to think of such things.

Later, as she drifted off to sleep once more, she thanked Aslan that she would not see the last days of her kingdom.


	74. Run

_**#74- Run

* * *

**_

Susan frowned at the missive. Edmund, noticing her odd silence, reached over and neatly snatched her letter, skimming it as he devoured his breakfast. Susan sighed.

"Lion's Mane, no!" Edmund spat suddenly, dropping the letter in disgust.

"What?"

"This- this spoiled Tisroc's son is pressing a suit for Susan's hand!"

"Which one?" Lucy asked reasonably.

"_Rabadash_."

"Wait," Peter said, "the one you trounced in Galma's tourney a few years back? The angry one?"

"The same."

"Hmmm." Peter turned to Susan. "Would you like my advice?"

"I suppose I'll get it whether I want it or not."

Peter nodded sagely. "Run."


	75. Hot

_**#75- Hot

* * *

**_

"Ugh," Lucy pronounced from where she was sprawled on the wet sand. "Have you ever known the weather to be so wretched this time of year?"

"It is unusually hot, I'll admit."

"Unusually hot? Ed, I'm absolutely roasting and it's not yet Midsummer."

"Perhaps you're right."

"Hmmm." She smiled as a wave washed over her legs and turned to look at her brother. "So why do you think we've got this ungodly heat?"

"Maybe Rabadash brought it, fearing our Northern clime would cool his ardor."

"Oh, unkind, brother, unkind! Best not let Susan hear you say such things."

He laughed.


	76. Confession

_**#76- Confession

* * *

**_

"Well, what do you think?"

Sighing, Susan traced the familiar carvings on the balustrade as she marshaled her scattered thoughts. "I don't have an answer for you, Peter."

She had no answer for herself, either. She knew she did not love Rabadash any more than he loved her; she saw through his pretty words. And yet… he fascinated her. He was intelligent, driven, shrewd. He knew the strengths of his position and, were she to be completely honest with herself, he played this dangerous game of kingdoms as well as she did.

"You need more time," Peter supplied softly.

"Yes."


	77. Soft

_**#77- Soft

* * *

**_

"Edmund, I don't like this at all."

"And you think I do? Still, it's her choice to make."

"Yes."

Peter returned to his treaty, muttering quietly as he reviewed the naval escort policy. Edmund, for his part, abandoned his own paperwork and let his mind ponder the earlier discussion.

It was so difficult to watch Susan engage in her convoluted dance with Rabadash, to watch them match their wits and political savvy at every moment. Yet Susan reveled in it, Edmund could see that.

He could only hope that she would remember to tread softly around the prince's dangerous pride.


	78. Holiday

_**#78- Holiday

* * *

**_

"Lucy?"

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking," Susan said, carefully not looking at her sister. "Would you like a holiday?"

"A holiday? I'm not quite sure what you mean…"

"You and me- and Peter and Edmund, if they like- taking a ship- the _Hyaline_, maybe- and just sailing away for a month or so. We could be away from the courtiers and the dignitaries and the vistors… we could conduct urgent business by courier."

Lucy watched Susan with concern; she sounded so tired. When Susan spoke again, Lucy had to strain to hear her.

"We could get away from all of this."


	79. Never

_**#79- Never

* * *

**_

The unfamiliar, oppressive heat woke Susan and she rose, going to the marble balcony overlooking the Tisroc's gardens. The moon was rising, full and silver, over the desert, though it, too, was unfamiliar, seemingly larger and colder here in Calormen.

After first checking that there was no one to see her, she let herself droop against the railing, exhaustion settling in. Perhaps coming to Tashbaan had been a mistake. But there were so many opportunities now that this dangerous contest with Rabadash had deepened.

And Susan had never found a game she couldn't win. She wasn't about to start now.


	80. Eyes

_**#80- Eyes

* * *

**_

Peter ran swiftly, staying low to the ground as possible and using the cumbersome boulders as cover whenever he could. He was so close to reaching safety. Just a few more feet…

Suddenly a large hand closed about him, lifting him into the air. Gasping for breath in the vise-like grip, Peter found himself staring into the Giant's face. As his head began to swim from lack of air, the outraged cries of his soldiers faded, replaced by a roaring in his ears.

The last thing Peter saw before the world went black was a pair of huge, malicious eyes.


	81. Win

_**#81- Win

* * *

**_

"We can't win this."

"Susan-" Edmund began.

"No," she snapped, pulling away from him. "I've been blind. I let this go too far, and now he has us neatly snared as birds in a cage."

"The blame is not yours alone."

"I've been a fool! I knew what Rabadash was, Edmund, I knew! Yet I was convinced I could outmaneuver him." She paused, blue eyes furious. "I was wrong."

Edmund pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling her pent-up rage in every tense muscle. For now, Susan was angry, but when it faded he feared the despair that would follow.


	82. Safe

_**#82- Safe

* * *

**_

Peter could not open his eyes.

That might have worried him greatly had he not had much more concerning things to think about, such as how every breath he took sent pain lancing through his body, or the fact that it felt like someone had tried to knock Cair Paravel down using his head as a battering ram.

All in all, it was a wretched state of affairs.

Shifting, he moaned softly.

"Hush, King Peter," someone said quietly, and a cool hand was placed against his brow.

"What-"

"I've never seen a Giant throw anyone so high, Majesty. My congratulations."


	83. Silver

_**#83- Silver

* * *

**_

"Ah, lovely. The stars are bright, the air is cool, we're marching towards certain death… what more could one ask for?"

"Gierun," Edmund growled, managing to put an alarming amount of menace into his voice, "I would appreciate it if you would be silent."

The Elk considered this for a moment before saying, "Of course, King Edmund. After all, it isn't every day I'm given the chance to march against a madman."

Edmund, glaring at his old friend, muttered, "But he's not a madman; that's the problem, you foolish Elk."

Behind them, the moon bathed Narnia's army in cold silver.


	84. Beginning

_**#84- Beginning

* * *

**_

Lucy hesitated in the open stable door for a moment before nodding resolutely and making her way to the far end of Anvard's stables.

She announced herself, feeling that it was only common courtesy, and then she entered the fine stall. In the far corner, an Ass glared balefully at her but made no move to drive her off. She wanted to hate him; really, she did. But she had seen his eyes, seen that beneath the pride and outrage there was confusion. He had looked… lost.

"This isn't the end, Prince," she whispered to him. "This is the beginning."


	85. Gold

_**#85- Gold

* * *

**_

"They should be here in a few hours."

"I know," Susan said, stepping back to examine her handiwork.

"How does it look?"

"Stop fussing!" Tilting her head, she eyed Peter's tunic closely. It was difficult to see, but she had no doubt that Edmund's sharp eyes would see the faint bulge in the silk that hinted at the bandages beneath. "Really, Peter, I don't know why you're trying so hard to conceal your injuries. Ed will find out sooner or later."

"Later, I should hope," Peter muttered.

Susan replied with a sigh and a cuff to her brother's golden head.


	86. Eternity

_**#86- Eternity

* * *

**_

Another breaker rolled up and washed over her, soaking her gown to the knees. Susan paid it no mind but continued to stare out to sea, taking in the sight of the water beneath the darkening sky.

On an evening like this, it was difficult to tell where the sea ended and the sky began. The two stretched on into the utter East, into eternity. Sometimes the sea's eternity had filled her with an overpowering, ancient yearning for what lay beyond.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, alone with the wind and the waves, Susan felt younger than she had in years.


	87. Submit

_**#87- Submit

* * *

**_

Exhaustion was beginning to set in, slowing his limbs and dulling his mind, but he had enough energy for one last attack.

His opponent reacted, meeting him halfway and blocking Edmund's strike with more power than Edmund could have anticipated. His sword rang as it skittered across the flagstones and Edmund, gasping for breath, found himself forced onto one knee with Peter's sword at his throat.

"Very good," Oreius murmured, nodding his approval. "You recovered much quicker than I anticipated."

Edmund inclined his head in submission but Peter only laughed and, lowering his sword, pulled his brother to his feet.


	88. Fantasy

_**#88- Fantasy

* * *

**_

"Here's the treaty from Heivern, your Majesty. If you review it before tomorrow's court session, I believe you will find it greatly beneficial to your understanding of the difficulties in the negotiations."

"Of course," Peter said distractedly, gesturing vaguely at his chamberlain.

As the Gibbon brought forth a thick sheaf of parchment, Peter said, "Virin?"

"Majesty?"

"I dreamed a dream of a kingdom with no paperwork. I dreamt this dream and," he added despairingly, looking at the stacks of reports towering around him, "it was very good."

"Until that happy time, I leave you to your duties, King Peter."


	89. Snarky

_**#89- Snarky

* * *

**_

"There's no need to be so disagreeable about it, brother. It's going to happen whether you approve or not."

"I'm a king; I can be disagreeable about anything I damn well please," Edmund shot back from where he lay sprawled on a low couch. "Two weeks of listening to Varide's mother-in-law interject snide comments about the wine and the food and the state of the tapestries! I love Varide, but that woman is insufferable!"

"Indeed," Lucy murmured, turning her attention back to the half-written letter before her.

"She's eternally negative."

"Ha! Those who live in glass houses shouldn't cast stones."


	90. Castle

_**#90- Castle

* * *

**_

"Varide, how was the journey?" Peter asked, passing a goblet to his old friend.

The Terebinthian grimaced. "I must admit, King Peter, I've never been so glad to see Cair Paravel. My mother-in-law is in fine form."

Peter shuddered.

"What," Edmund crowed, "still haven't finished your castle?"

"It's not a castle," Varide sniffed. "It's a manor and, no, it's not complete. And now all that crazy woman will do is screech about what a liar I am and how I mistreat her darling girl. All because construction is a bit behind schedule."

"A bit behind," Peter scoffed. "Only five years."


	91. Tears

_**#91- Tears

* * *

**_

"She's gone, Susan. You can come out now."

Lucy waited as the bolt was drawn back and the heavy door opened. Susan, looking rather relieved, stuck her head into the corridor and sighed. "Oh, praise Aslan. I was worried she'd never leave."

"We've got to do something about these ladies- and I use the term _very_ loosely- hunting our brothers. They are driving me utterly mad."

"I know, Lucy, but we can't very well throw them all out. We need good relations with our neighbors."

"Maybe, but I would shed no tears if these _ladies_ ceased chasing our dear brothers."


	92. Serenity

_**#92- Serenity

* * *

**_

"So, it looks like we've a quiet summer ahead of us."

"It does, doesn't it?"

"It will be good to be home," Edmund said happily, turning from the window to face his brother. "It's been too long since we've had a bit of peace."

"That it has. But all's quiet now, what with the Giants beaten to nothing and Calormen still puzzling over what to do with their Ass of an heir." Peter smirked, thinking of Rabadash, and nodded to himself.

"We've done well, haven't we, Peter?" Edmund asked suddenly, casting him a small smile.

"I think we have, brother."


	93. Funny

_**#93- Funny

* * *

**_

"You should sleep."

"Shan't," Susan muttered, leaning closer to her desk.

Sighing, Peter marched over and slid her book away. When she shot an angry glare at him, he only smiled. "Go. To. Bed."

"No one else seems to be concerned about our meeting with the Western clans tomorrow. We can't let this opportunity slip away; if-"

She broke off, casting Peter another glare. "What was that?" Her voice was dangerously quiet.

"_Buck, buck buck_," he said, once more performing his uncanny imitation of a mother Hen.

"You're not funny, Peter."

"Yes, I am."

"Are not."

"Go to bed, Susan."


	94. Remember

_**#94- Remember

* * *

**_

Lucy sat on her window ledge, one leg dangling in space. Susan had never really been comfortable when she did this, despite the fact that Susan did it herself. But the night was so lovely, and the stars so bright, that she couldn't resist. Besides, her dreams had been troubled again.

Faces swam in the darkness of her memory. They were familiar, and yet not; faces she felt she should know and yet couldn't quite recall. Faces… and another world.

Or perhaps it was simply a dream.

Leaning her head against the window frame, she whispered, "I want to remember."


	95. Forget

_**#95- Forget

* * *

**_

"Your Majesties!"

"Tumnus," Susan said, shocked. "Whatever is the matter?" She couldn't remember seeing the Faun so distressed since the last time Lucy had fallen ill.

"Your Majesties, the White Stag has been sighted in Narnia again!" Tumnus beamed at his sovereigns.

"White Stag?" Edmund queried distractedly, frowning at the chessboard.

"Yes, King Edmund. It's an old legend, forgotten save by lore masters and storytellers. The White Stag grants the wish of any who catches him." Tumnus paused. "Any wish," he whispered.

"And he's been sighted in Narnia?"

"Yes, Queen Lucy."

"Well, I suppose we'd best have our horses saddled."


	96. Wrong

_**#96- Wrong

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"Oh!" Lucy cried out as she followed Susan into the courtyard.

"What? What is it?"

"I've left my cordial in my room… I should get it, just in case," Lucy muttered, turning.

"No time!" Susan laughed, grabbing her sister's arm to stop her. "I've got my horn; we can always call for help if we're injured." There was a teasing gleam in her eye as she added, "Besides, I promise not to hurt Peter or Ed's pride this time."

"Fine," Lucy said, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile. "But leaving it here just seems… wrong, somehow. I can't explain it."


	97. Right

_**#97- Right

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Turning sharply in his saddle, Peter watched with amusement as the last of the courtiers shook his head, motioning to his exhausted mount.

"Well then," Edmund said quietly. "It looks as though we've the field all to ourselves. Should we continue?"

"I'd say yes, if we'd had any sight of the creature's trail lately. But we've seen neither hide nor heel of the Stag since it disappeared into that thicket a few miles back."

"That's because Grath, good Beast that he is, has no idea of how to navigate Lantern Waste." Edmund smiled confidently. "I can find the right path."


	98. Choices

_**#98- Choices

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As Peter stared at the lamppost, something stirred within him. Edmund's words echoed: _a dream of a dream_.

And even as he encouraged his brother and sisters to join him on this new adventure he felt a flash of warning, coupled with deep regret. But it was too late to turn back; he had made his choice, for good or ill, and he could sense the machinations of fate at work all around him.

Turning to lead them into the thicket, his hand brushed the post and he remembered a snow-covered day and the scent of wonder in the air.


	99. Secrets

_**#99- Secrets

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Susan paused, trailing behind her siblings. She wondered now if she shouldn't have told someone at the Cair about her wonderful secret- but she had so wanted to surprise everyone, and Peter's birthday was just around the corner…

Sighing, she swore that the first thing she would do upon her return to the palace would be to announce that she had, discreetly and quite single-handedly, forged a fragile peace with the tiny, warlike nation to the southwest- Telmar.

But a little delay would make no difference in the outcome.

Smiling, she hurried to catch up to her brothers and sister.


	100. Mystery

_I would like to offer many, many thanks to the wonderful reviewers who have made this such a great experience. The reviewer response for this story has exceeded my wildest dreams and I extend my warmest thanks to all of you.

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**_#100- Mystery_**

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Two worlds collided as four sovereigns pushed their way through pine trees that were also fur coats. Two kings and two queens stumbled through a wardrobe and fell right out of their world.

Narnia knew herself to be suddenly bereft of her guiding light. With an intuition as ancient as the song of the stars, Narnia began to wait. Her earth, waters, mountains, trees, and skies pulled into themselves the memories of four sovereigns, determined not to lose the Golden Age to the passage of time.

And Narnia swathed herself in mystery and memory to begin a thousand years' wait.


End file.
